He realized his error immediately. He was too deep into the corner and too far from the door. Her dance become more rhythmic as she began to talk about herself. There was no escape this time. He would have to endure her, until she grew hungry, or until someone else walked by carrying a bigger mirror, or perhaps, if he was very lucky, some charitable saint would notice his plight and offer her another talk show while he quietly made his escape. But those were just daydreams in a waking nightmare. For now, he had to face reality. For now, he was trapped.

I’m beginning to think you’re wasting this on us. Someone with half your writing and grammatical skills is pulling in over a million dollars a week just from writing ridiculous sex books for middle-aged female Twilight fans.

the bald guy in this photo MAKES THIS WORTH LOOKING AT! that poor poor guy. i would rather be dragged slowly to my death attached to rosie odonnells ass then have to be tyra bank’s photo bitch. this must have been take 3 thousand and 1